


Weapon of Choice

by shinra_archives



Series: The Gun and the Rod [1]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, Idiots in Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 00:46:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29038080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinra_archives/pseuds/shinra_archives
Summary: Reno teaches his partner the benefits of having a gun for a weapon instead of just his fists.
Relationships: Reno/Rude (Compilation of FFVII)
Series: The Gun and the Rod [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2130291
Kudos: 7





	Weapon of Choice

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published on March 26th, 2006.
> 
> This is not my work. The original author is Brainbreaker on Livejournal(.)com. This account's purpose is to archive and preserve the original author's work on AO3 in its entirety. This account does not take any credit or ownership of the original work. Please contact if you are the original author and would like this work removed from AO3.

Rude did not believe in guns. Yeah, sure, he logged on the same amount of practice as the rest of the Turks, enough to be proficient at hitting little paper targets a hundred meters away anyway, but he never did get used to the things.

Too cold. Too hard. Too prone to running out of bullets, unlike his fists, which were infinitely more convenient, and were in more-or-less inexhaustable supply. Guns needed regular cleaning and maintenance, and were filled with too tiny parts that could go bust if you weren't careful. This was especially irritating when all he wanted was to just point and shoot. Plus, he never had to worry about misplacing his fists -- the same could not be said of his standard issue.

Fists were simple. It's all about you and the other guy, duking it out, moving and trying to land one that counted. It's practically an artform, in the right hands.

Rude was good at fists.

That was the reason why he was still alive, if a little torn up. Rude winched as his partner finished tying up the make-shift bandage around his chest. "... who the fuck in their right mind go up against a battalion of armed rebel troops with his fists. Tseng said! It's supposed to be a long-range attack. Looooonnng raannngggeee...." Reno dragged out the words for additional emphasis. "That mean anything to you? It sure as fuck doesn't mean jumping in with your fists waving!"

Rude looked away uncomfortably, and felt around his pockets for his spare shades, slipping them on with a perceptable sense of relief. From behind his shades, Reno looked less pale, less shaky from equal parts post-battle nerves and a real irritation with his partner. Rude could only sit there quietly, meekly, as Reno continued his tirade.

"... you forgot your gun, didn't you? DUDE~! How in hell do you remember to bring spare sunglasses to a mission and yet FORGET TO BRING YOUR OWN GUN?!"

Rude hunkered down miserably in the shade of the blown up bunker to wait for rescue while his partner continued to harangue him.

***

The wound wasn't that bad, a couple of days in the hospital where the docs slapped a couple of stitches, and Rude was as right as rain after. By comparison, the dressing down from Tseng regarding battle orders, loss of standard issue equipment, expensive rescue missions; and the fines for said loss of standard issue equipment was markedly worse.

"Go collect your new weapon when you leave, and this time, do try to hang on to it a little longer," concluded Tseng acidly as he signed off on their mission report.

"Yes sir," muttered Rude.

He left Tseng's office with something like discouragement. His partner was waiting outside, and fell into step with him as they walked down the corridor.

"Aw, come on," Reno slung a companionable arm around Rude's shoulder. "It's not that bad, I've gotten a lot worse from him, y'know. Look, I'll go with you to pick out your new gun. Bet we can get you something sweet -- something that you wouldn't lose this time."

They went down to the weapons department, and Reno began wandering around the shelves, poking at the various guns and weaponry with his typical magpie curiousity. Finally, he brought out a large hand gun and placed it in front of Rude with a flourish.

"Here you go. One Desert Eagle .44 magnum 6 inch semi-auto. Well made, solid and it can stop a goddam rhino in its tracks. Take care of it, and it won't let you down." He sat opposite Rude and pulled out his own personal weapon out and fingered it fondly. "Just so you don't lose this one, I'm gonna tell you what my old instructor told me.

"Your weapon is something... special. It is like your wife, your lover, your mistress. You must feel it, treat it with respect, but never let it master you. You should spend every waking moment with it, which means you will eat with it, bathe with it, sleep with it, go everywhere with it. Treat it well, and it'll take care of you in every way, just like me and my baby here," finished Reno smugly, twirling his electric rod in his hand.

Rude blinked. He thought about what Reno said for a moment, and then looked first at the gun in front of him and then at his hands, a phrase from Reno's spiel reverberating in his head. He continued to stare intently at his hands, his eyebrow inching higher and higher with each passing moment.

He could accept the whole 'weapon = lover' logic without too much problem, Rude decided. After all, Mr Right and Left Hand were his best friends in a dry spell when no one he liked was handy. But how was he supposed to decide which was his wife, and which was his lover, the tall bald man wondered, his forehead furrowing slightly in thought. And does that mean his new gun will be his mistress? And was he really supposed to use his weapon this way?

Then, another -- more pressing -- thought struck him and he stared, first at his partner's electric rod with disbelief, and then, after several interesting, and above all, vivid mental images, at his partner with an marked increase in respect.

Reno stopped toying with his weapon, and looked suspiciously at Rude. "You're thinking strange thoughts again, aren't you?" A vein pulsed in his forehead.

Rude's eyes dropped down to Reno's rod, and then back at Reno again.

Reno's fingers went slack, and his rod dropped from his suddenly motionless hands. Swiftly, Rude swooped and managed to grab the weapon before it hit the floor. Carefully, delicately, he placed it back into Reno's unresisting hands, and said in his low gravelly voice, "You should be more careful with that." He gave the rod a gentle pat, and smiled at Reno.

"..."

"..."

"Ew, eeeew, EEEEEEWWWWWWW!!" The rod fell onto the floor with a loud clatter, and Reno launched himself at Rude at the same time. His hands fisted in Rude's shirt and the thin redhead began to shake Rude violently. "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU THINKING? OH, GROSSS~~ FUCK! THAT IS GROSS!! HOW THE FUCK AM I EVER GONNA USE MY ROD AGAIN??!!" Rude stoically endured the shaking, until finally, Reno collasped against his chest, shuddering uncontrollably. "Oh man, I feel so unclean now..." Reno whimpered.

Rude patted Reno gently on the back, looking down at the shaking body and his own large hands.

Yup, he is definitely a fist guy.


End file.
